


Safe All Night

by Laylah



Series: Tales of Coffeehouse [1]
Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Barebacking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-13
Updated: 2009-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-02 15:06:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yuri has a little swagger in his step as he crosses the room, like he knows how good he looks, but he's right, so Flynn doesn't mind too much. They kiss slow and familiar at first, getting pushier as they keep going -- as Flynn realizes just how long the last three weeks have felt, with Yuri out of town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe All Night

When Flynn turns the last corner to his own block, he stops for a second in surprise. His landlady is standing on the steps outside his building, talking to a young man dressed all in black, his belt draped with heavy lengths of chain. It looks like he's telling her a story, emphasizing his points with gestures Flynn would recognize anywhere.

"Yuri!" he says, hurrying up the block. "When did you get back in town?"

"Just this afternoon," Yuri says, grinning. He's wearing one of the shirts the band had printed before they left, and way too much silver jewelry, and Flynn would swear he has smudges of eyeliner on. He looks Flynn up and down as if _he's_ the one who's out of place, and raises a pierced eyebrow at the insignia on Flynn's shirt. "Looking good, officer. You get promoted while we were on tour?"

"At the beginning of the month," Flynn says. He _shouldn't_ have been able to make sergeant this young, but they've had a lot of guys leaving the force lately, and it's not like criminals will take a vacation because the cops are short staffed. "I'd have told you when you called, but...." He shrugs.

Yuri laughs. "Yeah, it was a little crazy for real conversation that night, huh?" He tosses his head to get his hair out of his face, and Flynn resists the temptation -- as always -- to push it out of the way himself. "We've got a lot to celebrate, then."

"Oh yeah?" Flynn says.

"I was just telling Miz Milano," Yuri says, and she nods like she's willing to be his alibi. "We had a guy from Union Records at our last show. I think we're going to get the deal."

"That's great," Flynn says. "You want to come in? We can have some beers, and maybe --"

"Call for pizza," Yuri interrupts. "Good crowd in Chicago, but they make weird fucking pizza. Sorry," he adds for Mrs. Milano's benefit.

Flynn laughs despite himself. "Sure," he says. He unclips his keys from his duty belt, wondering if Yuri still has the spare Flynn gave him a few months ago. "I'll see you around, Mrs. Milano."

She smiles. "You have a good evening," she says. "Always nice to see you, Yuri."

"You, too," Yuri says -- he's nowhere near as much of a punk as he looks like -- and follows Flynn into the building.

Flynn's apartment is on the third story, up the narrow stairs in the back. The stairwell always smells a little like wet basement, but as apartment flaws go, that's not so bad. "You jingle when you walk," Yuri says from behind him, sounding amused.

"Me?" Flynn says. "I'm not the one wearing enough chains to supply an S&amp;M club."

Yuri laughs. "Come on, this isn't nearly enough for that," he says. "Those places take locking people up pretty seriously, you know."

Something about the way he says it -- like he isn't just making shit up to mess with Flynn -- makes Flynn look back at him. "Sounds like a pretty informed opinion there," he says.

"Yeah, maybe," Yuri admits. "Judy has some pretty wild hobbies, you know? We went by this one place in New York --" He stops, waves a hand to dismiss the topic. "Anyway, let's not hang around in the hallway all night."

"Right," Flynn says. He turns away to unlock the door. He's not going to let himself dwell on it; Yuri's sensible enough not to get himself into more trouble than he can get back out of, and Flynn might not understand everything he likes but that isn't, has never been, the most important thing.

Yuri walks into Flynn's apartment like it's his place too -- they'd drive each other crazy if they tried that, but every once in a while Flynn thinks it'd be worth the headaches -- and heads straight for the kitchen. "Man, it's like you don't even live here," he says as he helps himself to a beer.

"Not all of us have your talent for living in squalor," Flynn says, trying not to smile. He watches Yuri twist the cap off the bottle and sighs in resignation when he tosses it on the countertop instead of in the trash.

"Oh hey, did you want one too?" Yuri says. He hands the open bottle to Flynn and opens the fridge again. "You know, they actually had this stuff at the place we played in Richmond," he says. "Bartender kept calling it 'youngling,' though."

Flynn takes a sip of his beer. "Is that right," he says. "Hey, why don't you call Tony's while I get changed, okay?"

"Sure," Yuri says, so Flynn leaves him to it, taking his beer with him as he heads into the bedroom to get out of uniform. He stows his duty belt, strips out of his shirt and vest, changes into a beat-up old pair of jeans. Before he goes back out to the kitchen he checks the drawer in his bedside table, just in case, making sure he's not going to need to run out to the drug store tonight.

By the time he gets back out there, Yuri's hanging up the phone. "I told them I want pepperoni and olives on the pizza," he says.

"Hey, you're the picky one," Flynn says. "I'll eat anything."

Yuri stops with his beer bottle halfway to his lips. Can't let a line like that go, apparently. "Oh yeah?" he says, hooking a thumb in his belt loop and tugging down meaningfully.

Flynn snorts. "How long till the pizza gets here?" he says. "I'm _not_ going to be sucking your cock when the delivery guy buzzes up."

"Aaw," Yuri says. He pouts.

"Your puppy face needs work," Flynn says. "I think it's the piercings." He sits down on the couch, sinking into it comfortably. "Come here and tell me about your crazy rock star adventures while we wait."

"Let me know when you're sorry you asked," Yuri says. He makes himself comfortable, half on the couch, half in Flynn's lap, and starts in on the highlights of the trip: watching the sun rise in Manhattan after being up all night; three-a.m. milkshakes in truck stops -- "and that's not a euphemism for anything," he says; meeting people who'd heard of the band thanks to their web site; opening for Nobody's Fool in Detroit and scoring an advance copy of their new CD. It sounds like a great time, and Flynn isn't anywhere near tired of hearing about it when the pizza shows up.

Even Yuri can't tell stories and eat pizza at the same time, though, so they have to pick one or the other. Flynn sets the pizza box down on the coffee table and gets some paper towels. Yuri has already helped himself to the biggest slice by the time Flynn sits down, folding it over and shoving almost a quarter of the slice in his mouth at once. Flynn would laugh -- don't they eat on the road at all? -- but he needs to hurry if he wants to get any for himself.

They demolish the pizza in ten minutes flat, and the beers only last a little longer. The feeling settling over him right now, Flynn thinks as he sets his empty bottle down, is relief. Oh, he knows Yuri can take care of himself, knows he'll always turn up again, but it's not the same as really having him around.

He cleans up, bottles in the recycling bin and the pizza box folded up and stuffed in the trash -- if he lets Yuri start making a mess of his apartment already, he'll be in trouble. "You sticking around tonight?" he asks.

"Unless you've got a hot date," Yuri says.

Flynn rolls his eyes. "Come here."

Yuri has a little swagger in his step as he crosses the room, like he knows how good he looks, but he's right, so Flynn doesn't mind too much. They kiss slow and familiar at first, getting pushier as they keep going -- as Flynn realizes just how long the last three weeks have felt, with Yuri out of town. He kisses harder, bites, and the way Yuri laughs into his mouth goes straight to his cock.

"Man, we better not get really famous, huh?" Yuri says. "You'd maul me if I went on a real tour."

"If you get really famous," Flynn says, "I'll take some vacation time and you can fly me to London or something for a mid-tour pit stop."

Yuri grins. "Deal," he says. He'd probably keep talking, too, except that Flynn pushes him up against the counter and bites his throat, one of the few sure-fire ways to stop him. Instead he moans, holding tight, his hips rocking toward Flynn's.

"You want to come to bed?" Flynn asks. "Can't be comfortable, being that hard in pants that tight."

"Always looking out for me, huh?" Yuri says. "Saint Flynn, that's you." Flynn stops, pulls back to look at him, and after a minute Yuri says, "What?"

Flynn shakes his head. "Nothing. Just waiting to see if you were going to make a crack about spending too much time on my knees, or something."

"You could never," Yuri says somberly, "spend _too much_ time on your knees." Flynn punches him in the arm. "Ow! Come on, you set me up for that." He grabs Flynn by the belt loops and pulls him close again, leans in to breathe the next part right in his ear. "Yes, I want to go to bed. I'm dying for a good fuck, Flynn."

Flynn smiles, giddy. "Race you," he says, and then they're tripping over each other in a hurry to get there. Flynn's the first one out of his clothes, his jeans old and soft enough that one good tug gets all the buttons undone -- and Yuri's wearing those ridiculous rock-star pants he has to be peeled out of. Not that there's anything wrong with that, when it leaves Flynn at eye level with the thick hard length of Yuri's cock. He licks his lips. "Yuri," he says. "You're still -- you're careful, right?"

He looks up. Yuri meets his eyes, totally serious, and nods once. "Every time."

"Good," Flynn says, and leans in to help himself. Yuri's cock is smooth and hot on his tongue, and he tastes so damn good -- and he moans, low and sweet, when Flynn really gets him in deep.

"Fuck," he says, "fuck yeah, I've been careful, Flynn, wouldn't ever want to screw this up. You're so good to me." He splays a hand across Flynn's shoulders, and his fingers dig in as Flynn swallows him deep. "_God_, Flynn. Hey, get up, come on. I've missed your cock. I want you to fuck me."

Flynn moans in half-sincere protest -- he's missed Yuri's cock, too -- but they'll have time, now that Yuri's home. "Can't turn that down," he says, and gives Yuri's cock one last lick before he gets up.

He follows Yuri to bed, and Yuri's already pulling the drawer open to get out the lube. He stops for a second, then picks up one of the condoms Flynn stashed in there. "You meet somebody while I was on the road?"

"Nothing like that," Flynn says. He shrugs. "I thought -- I should be prepared, in case it turned out we needed them."

Yuri shakes his head. "You're such a boy scout, Flynn." He drops the condoms back in the drawer and pulls Flynn close. "I'm not going to let you down like that. You mean too much to me."

Flynn kisses him, deep and slow. At least he means it to be slow, but now they're stretched out together, naked, and that's always hell on his self-control, and he wants to -- what's he waiting for? They can always go slow the second time. He lets go, reaches for the bottle of lube.

"Yeah," Yuri says, "there we go." He rolls onto his side, one leg drawn up, his hair spilling over the pillow. Flynn presses close against his back and reaches down to start opening him up. Yuri moans like he misses it just as bad as Flynn does, pressing back toward Flynn's hand. "God," Flynn says, "you make it so easy."

Yuri laughs. "Of course," he says. "I've got you right where I want you."

"Already?" Flynn asks.

"Almost," Yuri corrects himself. "Deeper."

Flynn nuzzles Yuri's shoulder, pushes his first finger as deep as it'll go. "Better?" he says. He bites, just a little, his teeth grazing taut skin. Yuri moans, relaxing into the touch so completely that it's already easy to slide a second finger in. "Damn," Flynn says. "That good?"

"Hell, yes," Yuri says. "More."

Flynn might not be so sure about whips and chains, but this is okay by him. He bites harder, and his cock aches at the hungry noise Yuri makes in response. Yuri's head falls forward, his back arching, and that looks a lot like an invitation to bite his nape, so Flynn does.

Yuri's whole body rocks toward him. "Fuck," Yuri says, "you got me right where you want me, too, huh? Going to, ah, pin me down and mount me?"

The idea -- of doing it like that, of calling it that, whatever -- hits Flynn like a sucker punch. He tries to be careful pulling his fingers out, makes sure he gets more lube for his cock first -- but then he does push Yuri down into the mattress, weight on his shoulder to hold him still. He's almost freaked out at himself for liking the way that sounds so much, but as he lines up, Yuri's saying, "Fuck, yes, Flynn, do it," and that helps a lot. He pushes, drives his cock in deep, and that gets noise out of both of them.

As long as he doesn't pull out very far, he can reach Yuri's nape like this, so he bites again, feels the clench of muscle around him. It's so good, so hot. Flynn growls through his teeth, and Yuri claws at the sheets.

"Yeah," Yuri says, "fuck, you're amazing, do that again."

Flynn growls without letting go, keeping his teeth clamped down as Yuri bucks under him.

"Good dog," Yuri gasps out, shoving a hand under himself. "God -- good dog, don't stop."

I won't, Flynn wants to say, but not while they're doing this, not when Yuri has -- has blindsided him with how hot this is. So he snarls in answer instead of speaking, snapping his hips in a quick, rough rhythm. He's not going to be able to do this for long, but neither is Yuri, squirming under him and panting, telling him what a good dog he is and how hot it is to get mounted like this, until Flynn's growl turns into a pleading whine.

"Yeah," Yuri says, his shoulder flexing as he strokes his cock, "puppy wants to come, huh? You've been a good dog, you know that trick, you want to -- oh god -- Flynn -- Flynn --" and then he's clenching tight, muscles rippling around Flynn's cock, and Flynn whimpers against Yuri's nape -- "Good boy -- good boy, come, like that, yes --" and this is crazy but that only seems to make it better, makes Flynn feel giddy and overloaded, and he comes so hard he can barely breathe.

He collapses on top of Yuri afterward, too wrung out to hold himself up. Yuri reaches back and just manages to get a hand on Flynn's shoulder. "Thank you," he says, hoarse and sincere.

"Hey, you don't have to thank me," Flynn says. He shifts enough to be able to take Yuri's hand and lace their fingers together. "That was great."

Yuri hums, quiet and amused. "Yeah?" he says. "Did I find you a kink at last?"

"Like that was all you," Flynn says. He's pretty sure he's just arguing out of habit. If Yuri wants to be the kinky one, he won't really complain.

Yuri must be feeling pretty good too, though, because he just laughs. "Fair enough." He squeezes Flynn's hand, brushes his thumb along Flynn's knuckles. They lie there for a few minutes, warm and sated, while Flynn listens to Yuri's breathing. Eventually Yuri squirms. "You're getting heavy," he says. He kicks Flynn's shin companionably. "Down, boy."

"Grrr," Flynn says, but he moves, pulling out and rolling off Yuri's back. He feels sticky, and a little silly, and a lot less awkward than he would have expected. Of course. It's Yuri, after all.

"So," Yuri says, propping himself up on one elbow, "you really liked that, huh?"

Flynn nods. "It was...a little weird," he says. "But good. Really good."

Yuri grins. "Think you'd like it as much the other way?"

"You want to be my dog, huh?" Flynn says. "I don't know. Are you housebroken?"

"I take it back. You _are_ kinky," Yuri says. "So that's a yes?"

"Yeah, I think so," Flynn says. "Maybe not tonight."

Yuri nods. "No hurry," he says. "We have plans for tonight?"

"Well, I want a shower," Flynn says, and grins at the way that makes Yuri leer. "I guess we'll see what else we're up for when the hot water runs out." He sits up, and holds out a hand. "Come on."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Slow Drip](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7956) by [kiwikiwi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwikiwi/pseuds/kiwikiwi)




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